


Honesty

by Macx



Series: Fate Lines [7]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Relationship, M/M, Psychic Bond, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank found out that his nightmares are actually real and that his goddaughter, like her father, his friend, is a wesen, a coyotl. It's tough to deal with that, especially since your partner claims he knew and can see them, too.</p><p>Hank has questions.</p><p>Nick has answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had started this before my vacation and didn't want to leave you waiting for three weeks or more for part two. My vacation then breathed life into another idea I've been playing with and Honesty was put on backburner, but since Hank knowing is a Grimm is vital for the new story, I had to finish this, too. Life is complicated :P
> 
> Anyway, here's part one. Still working out the last kinks in the second part.
> 
> Spoilers for Bad Moon Rising!

That the press hadn’t been all over the abduction and ritualistic imprisonment of a young girl from Portland, Oregon, was thanks to the superb political and media skills of one Captain Sean Renard. The arrest of the clan of coyotls was almost under the media radar, though some leaked through. 

Just a few tidbits.

Like the abduction of Carly Kempfer, whose name wasn’t even mentioned. 

Renard kept everything under a tight lock and Nick was thankful for it. As was just about everyone involved on the Kempfer side of the family. Jareld and Carly had clung to each other from the time the whole mess had been over till the arrival of the paramedics. Jareld had gone with his daughter, of course. 

“I’m dealing with this scum,” Hank had simply growled, nodding at the cuffed and shook-up Walker clan, who had been awaiting transport.

“I can do this alone, Hank. She’s your goddaughter.”

“And I’m an officer of the law and I’m doing my job right here,” had been the firm reply.

Nick hadn’t added anything to that, but they had swung by the hospital before going to the station to give a prelim to Renard.

Carly had been with a doctor and Nick had told Jareld to call; for whatever. Hank had added to that. The coyotl had been too shocked still to do more than nod.

 

Renard had been fielding calls and weaving a net of half-truths and protective lies by the time the two detectives came to the station. The Walkers had been booked and would be transferred to their individual holding cells soon. 

“Good work,” Renard simply said when the two men were done explaining what had happened. “I should mention that next time, Detective Griffin, you step back when it comes to personal involvement in a case.”

Hank’s impression grew stony, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

They knew that no matter what, Hank would have pursued the case. Jareld had come to him for help with his missing daughter and Griffin wouldn’t have handed over the case to anyone.

“No evidence was compromised,” Nick stepped in, gray eyes firm and steady. “We only went out to the farm to talk to Jareld’s brother-in-law. No one expected them to shoot at us, let alone have the girl hanging in a well.”

Renard grimaced. “I’m very much aware of it. The media thankfully isn’t. And they won’t if it’s up to me. No need to have this splayed out over the front pages.”

“Thanks, captain,” Hank said softly. “I appreciate it. As does Jareld.”

“How are they?”

“Shocked. Carly’s still shaken up,” Nick replied. “Jareld’s with her and we’ll drive by the hospital again later.”

“They did nothing to her,” Hank added, interpreting Renard’s expression correctly. 

“Good. Now go. The full report can wait till tomorrow.”

Nick nodded, not lingering any longer than any detective would. They kept their personal interaction down to a minimum, like superior and detective.

Hank let out an explosive breath, looking tired and worn and just slightly more nervous than his normal state-of-mind.

“Ready?” Nick asked calmly.

“Yeah.” The dark eyes shot Nick a look that spoke of many, many question.

“Later,” he promised.

They would talk; they had to talk. But right now Hank needed to know his friend and his goddaughter were okay. After that, Nick would try to answer any question his partner had.

* * *

He had let Hank choose and the choice had been Nick’s place. Nick had been surprised by that; he would have bet on a bar or diner, but Hank apparently didn’t want a public place. For Jareld Kempfer the choice had been a little less comfortable, going into a Grimm’s home, even if it was the man who had saved his daughter. The coyotl appeared nervous and kept looking around like he needed a good flight path; just in case.

Nick rooted through his fridge and offered each man a beer, trying to be harmless and calm around the nervous wesen. He knew he had his shields up, that nothing of what he was showed, but Jareld only gave him a tense, brief smile.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the Grimm said softly.

“I know,” was the answer. “It’s just… new.”

Hank, who had overheard the exchange, grimaced. “Talk about new! You didn’t have your world upended and rearranged.”

Jareld took a deep swallow. “In a way I did. Grimms aren’t the good guys. They lop your head off. They’re the nightmare of our world.”

Hank shot his partner a look. “Huh.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m not that kind of guy.”

“I figured that out,” the coyotl said with a smile. 

Carly was at the hospital for the night, under guard, her multiple abrasions, contusion and a few lacerations being treated. She was under observation just in case, mainly because of the shock of the abduction. That the young woman had handled it all much better than a non-coyotl girl would have had been of no consequence to the decision. Jareld felt better knowing she was guarded and in the best hands – and Renard would make sure it would be just like that. He had employed two hexenbiester as night nurses to keep an eye on the young woman.  
Nick knew his mate had no obligation to do anything of the like since neither Carly nor Jareld were of any consequence to him, but it had mattered to the Grimm, so the regnant had done it.

Sometimes the kind of control he had over Sean astounded and slightly frightened him. 

Looking at Hank, Nick saw him bursting with questions and he grinned a little. “Ask.”

“I wish I knew where to start! Man, I know I’m crazy, seeing all these things, and now you say it’s real and all.”

Jareld played with the label on his bottle. “It is real.”

“How long has tis been going on?”

“For me? Just before Aunt Marie died,” Nick told him truthfully. “Scared the crap out of me, too. As for the existence of wesen like Jareld? I think all of history.”

Jareld nodded. 

“No one ever caught on to that?”

“Oh, a few did. They ended up in psych wards or the like. The others, the ones who can see all the time, are the Grimms.”

“Like you.”

“Like me.”

“Why Grimm?”

Nick shrugged. “Probably because the brothers Grimm were like me and they made the creatures they saw into fairy tales that the world loved to read. There were Grimms, or whatever they were called, before that.”

“And you scare those creatures?”

Jareld chuckled. “Grimms are our nightmares and horror stories. You have the bogeyman, the bogeyman has the Grimm.”

“But why?”

“Because like Jareld said, in the past decades or even centuries all Grimms did was kill wesen. Before that, originally, we were supposed to be arbitrators in the wesen world. We worked to handle the co-existence between humans and wesen. Somewhere that went down the wrong road and now it’s… that.” 

Nick looked uncomfortable. 

“So you’re originally like cops and now you’re… lone gunmen who are judge, jury and executioner?” Hank summed it up.

“You could say it like that. I came into this whole heritage late. I wasn’t raised like a Grimm. I’m a cop and I’m not going around killing people who are different.”

Jareld gave him a small smile. 

Hank snorted. “I’ve known you how long? You’re not the shoot-first-ask-questions-later kinda guy. Never have been.”

“Tell that to someone like Jareld who can sense what you are,” Nick said quietly.

“We can’t tell the difference,” the coyotl agreed. “I know what he is and it’s an instinctive reaction.”

“So… who else is… different?” Hank asked cautiously. “I mean we had some weird cases and all.”

Nick sighed. “Yeah, they were weird. Even for me. Do you remember the murdered girl in the forest? And the missing child right after that?”

His partner nodded.

“That was the beginning.”

“And the suspect…? Your clockmaker guy?”

“He was my first real encounter.”

Jareld shot him a curious look. 

“He’s a blutbad,” Nick explained, which got him a wide-eyed look from the coyotl.

“Wieder,” Nick added. “And the guy who helped ease that whole Grimm thing on me.”

“A blutbad?!”

“Yeah.”

“What’s a blutbad, guys?” came the exasperated question from Griffin.

“Fairy tale big bad wolf kinda guy.”

Hank stared at him. “Wolf?!”

“Well, you know what I look like when I change,” was Jareld’s cautious reply.

“Yeah, well… yeah.”

“Monroe’s a wolf type.”

“Man…”

“And he was the one who ran you over in the woods.”

Hank looked slightly gray around the edges. That had been the moment his life had changed.

“He’s a good guy,” Nick added quickly. “Without him we wouldn’t have caught half the guys we did.”

Hank was visibly chewing on that. “Tell me about the cases,” he then demanded.

And Nick did. Jareld was as astounded as Hank, though he helped with some explanations when it came to wesen, and after the second beer Hank had calmed down a little. Nick left out a things. Like the siegbarste. Like Renard. He would ease Hank into the Grimm world one by one. Right now he was simply glad his partner finally knew.

“Who else knows?” he wanted to know.

Nick blew out a breath. “From the station? None of the other detectives or beat officers. At least not that I know.”

“You might not see them,” Jareld added. “They could know what and who you are, but if they have themselves under control there’s no telling how many there are.”

“There’s that. But I don’t really care who and what they are,” Nick said calmly. “Wesen aren’t different from anyone else.”

Jareld’s expression was one of wonder and hope.

“What about Captain Renard?” Hank asked, breaching a topic Nick had tried to avoid.

“Uhm…”

“He knows?”

Nick sighed. “Yeah, he knows.”

“Since the beginning?”

“I guess a lot longer,” the Grimm answered evasively. “He knew I’m a Grimm before things became complicated. I mean, he’s been steering the wesen cases towards me, so I guess he knew.”

“Okay.” Hank wanted to ask more, but with Jareld present Nick was glad he didn’t go into the more private life the two men shared.

Instead he switched back to asking about old cases, about the people involved, and Jareld looked astounded by how much Nick had accomplished, in which way he had dealt with the Grimm stuff.

“I heard rumors, you know,” he said quietly when Hank was in the bathroom. “About a Grimm in Portland. I wasn’t with a pack, so things didn’t really come to me right away. I heard things here or there. I was only there for Carly and I really didn’t want to get involved.”

“I understand.”

“Sounds like I should have listened a bit better.”

Nick smiled a little. “It changes nothing, Jareld.”

“There are those rumors about… y’know… Portland being a protected city.”

Nick glanced toward the bathroom door. Jareld followed his eyes, then nodded.

“Truth,” he murmured.

“Yes.”

“I made the right choice then, coming here.”

Nick grinned a little. “Seems like it.”

“You know… the Guardian?”

“Yes.”

Jareld got the hint and simply nodded. Hank chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. The coyotl got up.

“I think it’s time for me to go.”

“Yeah, it’s late,” Hank agreed.

“We’re good?” Nick asked at the door.

“Yeah, we’re good. Just… I still have a lot of questions, so…”

“You can ask any time. And I’ll let you know what we’re up against. I don’t always have all the answer, though.”

“But Monroe might?”

“Him and others.”

“You gonna introduce me to them? Properly?” Hank teased.

He laughed. “Yes, I will. One by one. You’re part of this because you’re my partner and my friend. I’m glad I can finally talk to you about this. It’s been hard to keep so many secrets, Hank.”

Hank clapped his shoulder. “Yeah, I can imagine. At least it lets me sleep at night now.”

Nick chuckled. “You think?”

“I know. I thought I was crazy, Nick! I saw things. Now I know it’s real and not just me having a breakdown.”

Jareld smiled a little when his friend looked at him. “It’s a relief,” he agreed. “Knowing that you know. You’re my best friend and Carly’s godfather. Hiding this was hard.”

They walked to the car. Jareld had come with Hank and Nick watched them leave. He really did feel better with this burden off his shoulders.

Now he only had to wait for the right moment in time to tell his partner that Sean Renard was a wesen, too. And the Guardian of Portland. The latter he might obfuscate a little, but maybe he would have to come clean here, too. 

But before he lost a single word about Renard’s role he had to talk to his mate.

 

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

The nightmares weren’t gone. They had lessened, had turned into something more vague, like a feeling of unease, and they were getting less and less. Hank knew that working through what he had thought was a psychotic breakdown took time. The psychologist had been a waste of time, he now knew that. Talking with Nick was a lot more effective and calming on his nerves.

Knowing that the creatures he had seen, had thought were his imagination, were real hadn’t scared him as much as thinking he was seeing things. Hank had been more afraid of turning into some babbling idiot with a neurological disorder than anything else. It would have meant the end of his job, his career, his life. 

But Nick saw this stuff, too.

And Jareld and Carly were creatures, had shown him what they were, and Jareld had looked almost contrite that he had had to lie all those years. Well, not really lie. Hank had never asked or suspected. Jarold just hadn’t been able to tell his friend everything.

Hank understood. He understood that it had been necessary and that people like the Kempfers had to hide. 

He also understood that Nick was the only one who could see them for what they were without the so-called wesen actively wanting to be seen. He had this gift that made him a Grimm.

Talk about psychotic episodes! Hank wondered how many people out there could see the wesen and had been diagnosed as mentally ill. Maybe some didn’t even know they were Grimms, that the hallucinations weren’t that; that they were true and real.

Hank could work with the knowledge he had, with the awareness of something being out there that he could only see if the wesen wanted him to see them. He could live with the knowledge that his partner at work could see them. He could live with the knowledge that some of his colleagues and friends might be different.

He didn’t really want to delve into all of it too deeply right now. Maybe later. For now the facts were okay; he didn’t need to get into the theories and all the obscure stuff Nick dug up in some old books his aunt had left him.

“Don’t tell me where you keep the stuff,” he told his partner one evening over a beer. “Safer for you and for me.”

Nick had agreed. He would have Nick’s back, would follow his lead when a case became more Grimm than normal. Burkhardt didn’t expect more from him and had accepted that Hank didn’t really need in-depth knowledge – until it was truly needed to understand a case.

It was their deal.

Hank could live very well with that.

There was only one thing still gnawing on his mind and he had no idea how to breach the subject so far. It had to wait. Right now he had to understand Nick’s crazy-ass world. The rest would follow.

* * *

The forest was dense, the trees growing high into the sky and the undergrowth keeping the less adventurous hikers away from the untrodden paths. Animals scurried through the bushes, birds flew between the trees or sat in their branches, and here or there bigger game was carefully listening to the sounds around it. Out here, deeper into the forest than most normal hikers went and even beyond what was on the regular patrol routes of park services, Nick Burkhardt was busy parrying thrusts and trying to land a blow himself. He wasn’t specially outfitted for the hard blows and mind-numbingly fast attacks. Just like he wouldn’t be wearing special gear when going up against whatever was thrown at him wesen-wise.

Monroe sat to the side, wide-eyed, tense, and very much in awe. His senses were those of a predator and he could admire the fluid grace and fast-paced attack-defense of his friend from the sidelines. He knew what strength it took, what power was in this young Grimm. He had seen him fight and adapt in the cages of the Lowen Games. Nick had had no gladiator training, he had never been trained with swords or the like, but he was a quick learner.

Probably a Grimm trait, he mused. Learn or die.

Nick twirled the staff he was using as a defense, a grin on his face, gray eyes alight with the adrenaline high of the fight.

Renard, dressed in casual black and looking rather more relaxed than a fighter should, smiled back.

The next succession of blows traded was a flurry of movement, the sound of the two wooden staffs colliding a harsh and unnatural sound in the otherwise rather peaceful forest. Nick refused to let his partner gain any ground, was actively trying to push him back, and while his shirt was soaked through, he didn’t look like he would give in any time soon.  
Monroe simply watched.

Still amazed and in awe. Still so very glad the Grimm had a training partner aside from his truly to train him. Monroe was sure he wasn’t fit to do any of what those two men were currently showing. Like two very dedicated performers of a very serious dance, a ritual that would have only one outcome: someone would win, another would lose.

Renard moved with an unnatural grace inherent to his kind, faster and much stronger than his mate, but not out-classing him. Nick was compensating, learning, adapting, using what was around him to keep himself alive.

Well, Monroe thought, not alive like live-or-die. Renard would never injure his mate. But this was to train Nick for fights against different opponents. He might have cut two reapers’ heads off, but there were others out there and Monroe knew that Renard was very much aware of it. He might even have some other wesen at his command to help Nick’s learning curve. 

The fight ended with a sharp blow that had Nick reeling back and a swipe toward his legs had him fall. When Renard tried to add a third blow, Nick brought up the staff and fended it off, kicking hard at the leg nearest to him and missing.

The Guardian chuckled as he jumped back. And Nick was on his feet again, breathing hard, but still battle ready.

“I think we’re done for today,” Renard simply said.

“Giving up?” the Grimm teased.

“Hardly. I just don’t want to break you already.”

Nick snorted, but he walked over to where Monroe sat and held out a bottle of water to him. The blutbad also tossed one in Renard’s direction. The other man caught it easily.

“So,” Sean said after drinking half of the bottle. “Hank?”

Nick wiped his face with a towel. Monroe raised his eyebrows. “Hank?” he echoed.

“Hank knows.”

“Hank knows…?” Monroe exclaimed.

“About me being a Grimm, about wesen, about you and Bud and…” Nick shrugged. “Jareld being a coyotl and Carly dropping her façade… He saw, Monroe. And he asked and I didn’t want to lie any more. I told him then and there about Carly, that he was seeing the real thing.”

Monroe stared at him. “And you just went on and on about everyone?!”

“No,” was the quiet reply. “I took a calculated risk and slowly introduced him into what he thought was a psychotic breakdown is.”

“You could have asked me first, man!”

“I’m sorry.”

Monroe snorted and looked at Renard. “So he knows about all of this?”

“Only about me and the wesen cases. He doesn’t know about Sean.”

“Because he didn’t ask?”

“Because he didn’t ask,” Nick confirmed.

Monroe sighed. “Man, he will. He knows you two are an item. He will ask one day.”

“And that will be when I will have to talk to him,” Renard spoke up for the first time.

Nick didn’t look happy about it and Monroe felt with him. 

 

They gathered up their things not much later and walked back to where an off-road vehicle had been parked. It had been their ticket into this deep woods and while Monroe hated the bumpy ride that had almost made him sick, he had appreciated the foresight.

Now it was an equally bumpy ride back and he was glad he hadn’t eaten much.

* * *

The question came two weeks after the coyotl case and it had taken Hank longer than Nick would have thought. He had been prepared, had talked with Sean about the possibility, about their answers, about lying or telling the truth.

“Does the captain know?”

So when that question came, over a coffee, overlooking the river as they took a break on their shift, Nick knew that lying wasn’t the answer.

“Yes, he does,” he replied.

“Did he know before you two got involved?”

Okay, that wasn’t what he had expected as the second question after that.

“Yeah.”

Hank frowned, eyes on the river, coffee forgotten in his hand. Finally he took a sip.

“He’s a Grimm, too?”

“No.”

“But he sees them.” That was a statement.

“Yes.”

Hank turned to look at him, frowning more. “He’s…?”

Nick sighed and glanced around, seeing nothing. They were alone. “He’s a wesen, Hank.”

His partner gaped. “Really?! No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Holy…” Hank tossed the coffee into the bin next to them and paced a few feet, then stopped and raked fingers through his hair. “Damn!”

“Hank…?”

“He’s… what is he? A blutbad?”

Nick smiled briefly. “No. Nothing common.” 

“If you think blutbad is common for me, think again!”

“Not what I meant. He’s… different from the other wesen I met. He’s powerful and holds a position of command among them, too.”

“But he can’t order them off your back.” Another statement.

“No.” Nick threw his cup away, too. This was way more complicated than he could explain over take-out coffee. “Listen, Hank… this changes nothing about him, okay? Or about us. All of us.”

“Yeah, right, sure.” Hank looked still flabbergasted. “What is he?”

“They are called regnants.”

“No weird kinda-German word?”

Nick chuckled. “No. He comes from Europe, but more of the French area. Maybe not even originally from there.”

Hank frowned a little. “So, he’s a what?”

“Guardian. Of Portland. Very territorial.”

“Guardian.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re…?”

Nick looked out over the water. Here comes.

“Psychically bonded to him. Since before we got together.”

Hank’s face was priceless. “Psychically…?”

“Not telepathy, Hank. Nothing like that. We just… fit. And the bond happens when that happens. Actually, Grimms are perfect matches for them.” He smirked a little. “Go figure.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And before you start speculating, no, it had nothing to do with us getting together, okay? That wasn’t influenced by who and what we are.”

“If you say so.”

“I am.”

“Hey, I understand, Nick. I’ve seen the two of you. Well, the lack of the two of you,” he teased. “You hide it so damn well, except for that one time.” Hank was suddenly very serious. “He’s very much into you, Nick. Four exes give me the insight.”

Nick chuckled. “Deep, Hank. Very deep.”

“But true.”

The Grimm colored a little. “True.”

“So he’s a wesen and he and you are an item, despite the fact that you are the enemy of the wesen? That’s gotta be complicated as hell.”

“In a way. For a Guardian, finding a Grimm who is their match is a rare occasion and that makes this even more complicated. It raised some trouble.”

Hank frowned.

“And it made me even more of a target in the wesen world, but nothing I can’t handle,” Nick added truthfully. “Portland is a safe city for the wesen, even more now that its Guardian and the local Grimm work together on the same side. But there are those out there that don’t want that, who see me as an interference.”

The frown deepened. “So I can expect more shit to happen around here.”

“Maybe. Right now things are quiet and I hope they stay that way. We get the odd cases, sure, but no hits on me.” Nick tried to make it sound light, but he knew it wasn’t that way.

Hank was silent, mulling it over, digesting the news. “He knows you’re revealing all of that to me?”

“We talked about it. Sean said to tell you the truth when you asked.”

Hank was obviously working through a lot of emotions. Nick understood him better than Hank probably thought he did. He had gone through the same, just with a lot more violence and force and life-or-death kind of situations. And he had had no one to tell him anything, aside from a very reluctant blutbad.

“Thanks,” he finally said. “For trusting me. For telling me the truth. For everything.”

Nick squeezed his shoulder. “You’re my partner and my friend. I trust you. I hated not telling you.”

Hank gave him a brief smile. “So, I need to talk to the captain?”

“You don’t have to do anything. This changes nothing at all. He’s still our boss.”

Griffin laughed. “I’m not forgetting that, Nick! Don’t worry. He’s my captain, no matter what else he is. I didn’t mind him and you being together. This is just part of your weird world.”

Nick felt relieved.

Things might just be looking up. His partner knew, his mate was fine with the truth being told, and Nick firmly believed that his trust in Hank wasn’t misplaced. 

* * *

Renard watched his detective walk out of the captain’s office. Hank had appeared composed, like he had finally digested what Nick had told him, what he had seen and had been shown. His face had been serious when he had told Renard that things were okay, that he could work with the new knowledge and the changed status quo.

“This is more than keeping my relationship with a subordinate your secret, Detective Griffin,” Renard said evenly.

“I know that, sir. And you know that should I rave about seeing monsters and all, it’d be called psychotic breakdown. I also don’t doubt your ability to protect yourself and Nick.” Hank quirked a smile. “I can really work with this. I’m fine.”

“Very well. In that case, there is still a report I’m waiting for.”

Hank shot him a quick smile. “Will be on your desk in an hour.”

And he was gone.

Sean sat down in his chair, wondering what this new knowledge meant. Nick had needed his partner to be aware of so many things, but he had never been able to tell him. With Kempfer there had been an opening. Renard could think of so many reasons why it all could have gone to hell in a handbasket, but it hadn’t. 

He was actually relieved.

He would have hated to let Hank griffin disappear because his knowledge could have endangered his mate and his Protectorate.

Turning to his email, Renard decided to watch the other man for a while. He didn’t think there would be further problems, but one never knew.

 

fin for this one  
next fic is currently in the works


End file.
